


Old weary bones

by KissingWinchesters



Series: YouKnowTheyAreBrothers Blog [26]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester's Birthday, Dean's Birthday, M/M, Nipple Play, Top Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-27
Updated: 2018-01-27
Packaged: 2019-03-10 00:15:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13492812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KissingWinchesters/pseuds/KissingWinchesters
Summary: He doesn’t care that Sam’s forgotten it’s his birthday. He doesn’t care, because he doesn’t care. It would have been nice though, and not unreasonable he thinks, to have had a nice relaxed day.





	Old weary bones

**Author's Note:**

> Read the original work including art/gifs [HERE](http://youknowtheyarebrothers.tumblr.com/post/137999255430/where-do-you-want-all-this-crap-sam-its-not)

“Where do you want all this crap, Sam?”

“It’s not crap. And, uh, those in my room, and those in the library. Don’t mix them up.”

Dean scowls, muttering under his breath. Sammy is a bossy freaking princess and next time he wants to go through another one of the many rooms of junk left by the Men of Letters, he can do it alone. Dean’s back is aching, god damn it. He’s thirty fucking seven years old.

Adjusting his grip on the boxes and books he’s holding, Dean stomps off to the library, dumping the correct pile on the huge polished desk.

“Those in my room,” Dean says, putting on his best whiny voice to imitate Sam. It actually makes him feel a bit better.

He doesn’t care that Sam’s forgotten it’s his birthday. He doesn’t care, because he doesn’t care. It would have been nice though, and not unreasonable he thinks, to have had a nice relaxed day. Maybe go out for a big breakfast, extra grease now that Sam has him on a healthier eating diet. He could have worked on his Baby before dinner, maybe taken Sam out for a drive in the afternoon? They could have cooked some steaks for dinner, had a few beers and some laughs, and then Dean could fuck Sam good and fast? A good day all round.

Instead, he’s skivvying around for his brother and creaking in places he’s starting to creak in more and more these days. Boo fucking hoo.

“Of course, your door is closed,” Dean grumbles to himself, switching the stuff in his hands to fumble at the door handle.

He gets it open, and kicks it for good measure, before shouldering his way into Sam’s room.

Sam, the sneak, is in there, half sitting, half lying on his bed. His tshirt is pushed up to just below his nipples, his jeans open and folded back enough for Dean to see his brothers hand stroking his dick through his boxers.

A few books and sheets of paper fall noisily to the floor.

“Jesus, Sammy…”

Sam smirks, lazy and fully aware of what he looks like. He’s basking in it, touching himself for Dean’s eyes only, and he’s loving it.

“Dude, don’t drop those, they’re really old,” Sam drawls, spreading his legs more.

“They’re not the only ones,” Dean replies. He doesn’t take his eyes off of Sam when he squats down to pick up what he’s dropped. He stands up slowly, blindly shoving the papers onto the sideboard because he can’t physically look away from Sam.

“You’re not old.” Sam tilts his head back, hair fanning out behind him, and makes the most incredibly erotic moan.

“A little older today, baby boy.”

Dean approaches Sam, palms sweating with the need to touch. He steps between Sam’s legs, sliding his palms up to the top of his thighs.

“Didn’t forget,” Sam says, words soft, charged with caged want. “I was just having too much fun making you all grumpy.”

“Oh, happy birthday to me,” Dean chuckles, squeezing Sam’s thighs enough so that his brother collapses back onto the bed laughing. “Such a brat.”

“I try.”

Sam takes his hand out of the vee of his jeans, a damp patch of precome darkening the material. He watches Dean with dark eyes while his hand slides up over his stomach, fingers bumping over the ridges of his abs and up to the hem of his tshirt.

Dean lets go of Sam’s thighs and places his hands on Sam’s hips.

“No teasing now, baby. Show me.”

Sam laughs again, lifting his shirt as high as it’ll go, exposing his nipples to the air and the heated gaze of his brother. Dean has had a thing for Sam’s nipples like… forever, and nothing gets Dean hotter than the affect his adoration of them has on Sam.

“So fucking beautiful, Sammy,” Dean whispers, hitching his knees up onto the bed, either side of Sam’s legs so that he’s straddling his lap. He leans over, places a kiss to each dark peak, before going back and forth, sucking and biting them until Sam is writhing beneath him.

Sam is sensitive, in so many ways, but like this, when Dean is taking care of him in the most raw and yet basic of ways, Dean is thankful for it. Sam was made for Dean’s lips, for his hands on his skin, for his heart to fit right next to his, tucked tight under his ribs.

Dean smiles, his teeth pinched over Sam’s right nipple. He smiles at the way Sam is clawing at his back through the two layers of his clothes, desperate breaths grazing Dean’s ear every time Dean takes him into his mouth.

“Take them off. Want… want them off.”

Dean sits up, just enough so that his face is parallel to Sam’s. His fingers wrap around Sam’s biceps, tugging his arms up above his head.

“Want yours off first,” he says, and Sam lifts his head so that Dean can remove his tshirt completely.

Sam leaves his arms where they are, knowing that the position stretches out the muscles of his torso. His nipples are hard and flushed, and Sam doesn’t miss the way Dean’s eyes keep seeking them out as he pulls Sam’s jeans down to his calves and then off.

Once Sam is naked, Dean gets off the bed. He’s hard, the bulge of his cock throbs with his racing pulse as he walks around the bed to the bedside table. He opens the drawer and takes out the lube.

“Dean, c'mon,” Sam says, a definite whine in his tone.

Dean tuts, shaking his head and waggling the lube between his fingers.

“I think after all the work you made me do today, you should do something for a change. Save my old weary bones.”

Sam prods Dean’s knee with his toes, his stomach clenching, hands darting forward when Dean throws the lube at him.

“Fine,” Sam huffs, uncapping the tube. “But… you’re going to get naked while I’m doing it, right?”

Dean shrugs. “Depends. If you do a good job of it.”

Sam shakes his head, but the fire in his eyes betrays his annoyance. Sam gets off on Dean’s commanding nature. He plays at being put out by being bossed around, and it’s not that he doesn’t tell Dean what to do every once in a while, but when it comes down to it, their roles of big brother/little brother is as hot as it gets.

Hitching his legs up, Sam keeps his knees bent and his legs spread, his hole twitching at the sudden rush of cool air. He spreads some lube over two of his fingers, then taps his hole a few times, circling the muscle with his digits.

Dean starts to unbutton his shirt.

“You were always the best thing about my birthdays, Sammy. Always made sure to do something sweet for me, even when we had nothin’… You’d find a way to make me feel special.”

Sam bites his lip and sinks one finger into his ass, circling his hips to adjust to the feeling. Dean reaches behind his neck and gathers the neck of his tshirt in his fist, pulling it in one smooth motion over his head.

“It was the only day you’d let me show you how special you are,” Sam replies.

“Hmm.” Dean puts his hands over his crotch, stroking himself as Sam adds a second finger, his eyes fluttering shut. He remembers all the small gifts wrapped in scraps of paper, carefully chosen by his little brother. Even when it was just a few bars of Dean’s favourite candy, it had meant the world to Dean.

“Please…” Sam asks again, arching his back as his fingers move deeper inside himself. “Please fuck me, Dean.”

Dean grins. He’s not going to keep Sam waiting anymore. As much as he likes to get a rise out of him, Dean is much more interested in cashing in his birthday gift instead.

He unbuttons his jeans and draws the zip down, sighing when his dick gets a bit of much needed room. Sam lets his feet drop down onto the bed, but he keeps fingering himself, waiting for Dean.

“You been thinking about this all day?”

Sam nods, strands of hair sticking to his sweaty forehead. Dean kicks off his boots and socks and removes his jeans, his hands resting on his hips. Sam runs his foot up the inside of one bowed leg, presses the top of his toes against Dean’s balls, before running it back down the other leg.

“Almost broke a few times when I kept asking you to pass me things from the bottom shelves. You don’t know how hot you look bent over.”

Dean laughs low in his throat, sounding more like a growl. He takes off his boxer briefs and grips his cock at the base, a pleasured breath escaping him.

“Oh, I do know, Sammy.” He winks and steps forward, fingers roaming over Sam’s skin like a kiss, a tickle of movement that makes Sam gasp. “Turn over.”

Sam inhales quickly, heat deepening his already flushed cheeks. He rolls over, leaning up on his elbows so that his spine is curved, and scoots forward so that his long legs are completely on the bed.

“Fuck,” Dean says, awe making his voice shake. Taking the lube from the edge of the bed, he opens it and pours some over the length of his cock, spreading it around with his hand.

“Best ass I’ve ever seen.” Dean lets his dick go and grabs Sam’s ass, pulling it apart.

Sam bends his knees, opening himself more for his brother. Dean crawls over him and slots his knees either side of Sam’s legs. He touches the head of his dick to Sam’s hole and pushes against it, feeling it give. Hooking his feet over Sam’s calves, Dean tenses his body up and starts to sink into Sam, moaning as the heat grips him like a vice.

He doesn’t waste time. Dean thrusts in, balls flush to Sam’s ass. He kisses the side of Sam’s neck, apologising for his haste, but Sam just pushes back against Dean, encouraging him for more.

“That’s my boy,” Dean says, pulling out and thrusting forward again. Sam curses, pulling at the sheets with his hands.

They fuck furiously, hard and fast and hot, and it’s perfect. Dean grinds his hips relentlessly, and Sam rolls his own, keeping up with his brother until they’re both crazed, mindless to anything but each other.

Dean hasn’t laid a hand on Sam’s cock yet, but he knows it wouldn’t take much for him to come. He digs his nose into the damp curls of hair behind Sam’s ear and licks his earlobe.

“Close? Gonna come, darlin’?”

“Mm…”

“Gotta tell me, Sammy. Say it.”

Dean slams his hips, making the bed shake with the force of it. Sam cries out, scrabbling at Dean’s hands that are pressed firmly into the mattress to hold his straining body upright.

“Yeah…. Yeah, m'close. God, Dean, don’t stop. Need you…”

And Dean knows exactly what Sam needs. Knows that Sam will come just on Dean’s cock and from him doing it deep inside, marking Sam up.

He quickens his pace, sweat dripping off of him as he pounds into Sam.

“So good, so fucking good… Ah…”

Sam clenches around him, and Dean’s hips stutter. He threads his fingers through Sam’s, keeps fucking him while his orgasm rips his senses away, the only thing remaining is Sam. Sam.

“Sam… God… Fuuuuck…”

“Yeah… Yes, oh fuck I’m going to come…” Sam’s whole body rocks under Dean, and he humps the bed over and over, moaning and shaking like a bird in a trap. Dean’s cock keeps dragging over Sam’s prostate, easing his orgasm out of him like the sweetest promise, his come trickling out between Sam’s legs.

“That’s it,” Dean says, slowing his thrusts until he’s barely moving, and Sam is just holding him inside, keeping them together. “So good, Sammy.”

“Mmm,” Sam responds, turning his head so that Dean can kiss him, slow and tender.

After a while, sam starts to drift off, always a sleepy head after sex.

“Hey, little brother. Open those eyes.”

Dean eases his softened cock out of Sam’s ass, apologising when he hears Sam hiss, but at least he’s more awake now.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Sam rolls over onto his back, one arm swooping over his face. Dean rolls his eyes. He grabs the nearest tshirt off the floor (Sam’s ha!) and gingerly wipes between Sam’s legs and over his cock and stomach. The sheets have a damp patch on them, but luckily they didn’t get under the covers to fuck so it should be dry enough to get in. They can do a wash tomorrow.

“Come on, Sasquatch, help me out here.”

Sam groans, but silently shuffles around until Dean can pull the covers back, and they both get in, Sam’s arm hooking around Dean’s shoulders so that he has no choice but to be tucked up under Sam’s chin.

“There’s an apple pie in the fridge. Thought we could eat it in bed tomorrow?” Sam says, his voice heavy with sleep.

“We? What makes you think I’ll be sharing?”

Sam pulls Dean tighter.

“Thought you could eat it off me?”

Dean smirks, settling down in the furnace strength heat of Sam’s arms. Hmm, eating pie off Sam? Now there’s an idea.

He’s about to tell Sam so, but his brother is already snoring.

Hmm, this birthday turned out pretty damn good after all.


End file.
